Before the Fall
by Aarg
Summary: This is Andromache's life before the Fall of Troy. About her marriage to Hector, how they fall in love, and the events that occur with Helen's arrival, and the Trojan War.
1. Chapter 1

"And did I mention that he's never lost a duel?" Podes continued as he slashed through the air with an imaginary sword. "I can't wait to see him!"

Andromache sighed as she leaned over the window to gaze out at the sea. "Yes Podes, you've mentioned that. And that he'll command the greatest army in the East someday, and that he can tame any horse in the wild, and that he's at least ten feet tall. Or was it twenty? Apparently, he grows five feet every time you tell me his height."

Of all of her brothers, she was closest to Podes as they were closest in age. He was eighteen years old (though he wasn't acting like it) and Prince Hector had just become his new favorite hero. Podes simply could not comprehend how his sister could be less than enthralled by the thrilling tales of the great warrior and the splendorous Troy.

"I can't believe you don't even care, Andromache. He's incredible! Don't you want to marry Prince Hector?" Asked Podes, continuing the display of his excellent swordsmanship as he pretended to fight and stab the lion on a hanging tapestry his sister had woven with skill and care.

"If you don't, I will." Answered Prince Euneus, having overheard as he entered the room. Four years Andromache's senior, he too had made Hector his newfound idol. "Did you know he's never lost a duel?"

Rolling her eyes, Andromache turned around. "Yes Euneus, Podes was just telling me for the hundredth time."

"And he'll command the finest army in the East someday!" Euneus continued, extolling her future husband's virtues. "They say he's the bravest man in Asia, one of Ares' favorites in battle! If I could have but a slice of that glory..." He sighed dramatically.

"You'll share him with us once you've married, won't you Andromache?" Podes said as he and his older brother commenced an epic duel with weapons consisting of invisible spears. Usually, her brothers were relatively sensible, but as of late, any discussion involving Man-killing Hector had them acting as though they were five years old again.

Frustrated, Andromache burst out, "Of course brother, because it will be very easy to share him with all of you an ocean away!" She stopped as her breath caught in her throat. She would be so far from home, how would she bear it? From her family, her friends, her people!

Her brothers stopped their play when they heard the quiver in her voice. Andromache didn't miss the look they shared and regretted her words at once. She had not meant for them to know her doubts and insecurities regarding the match.

"If you don't wish to marry him, Andromache, there's still time to return the messenger from Troy." Podes said after a pause. "There are plenty of suitors in Cilicia and time enough to choose. Should we let father know?"

"No, no, I do want to marry him." Andromache lied earnestly. "I'm just a bit nervous, that's all. Please don't say anything."

"Thebe can do without the bride-price if that's what you're concerned about." Euneus spoke quietly. "You're the youngest and our only girl Andromache. We want only the best for you."

Andromache forced herself to form a cheery smile. "Which is why I will be marrying Hector, loved by Ares, the finest man in Asia with a city unrivaled in wealth. It will be a great honor. You need not be concerned, it was only a moment's worry."

"That's more like our brave little sister." Said Euneus proudly. "You'll show Hector we Thebans have as much courage as those stallion-breaking Trojans of theirs. Father took quite some trouble to arrange this match so mind you honor it."

"King Priam's greatest son for gallant Eetion's favorite daughter." Podes added, breaking into a warm smile.

Andromache laughed. "I might be a little more convinced if I weren't his only daughter." She said as they continued to banter back and forth. But grateful as she was for her brothers' kindness, Andromache felt even lonelier as they spoke. Who knew when she would ever see them again?

* * *

Over the next few weeks, wedding preparations kept the palace busy. There were robes, jewelry, guests, food, wine, and a thousand other minute details to tally over and plan, but Princess Andromache could hardly bring herself to feign interest. It all felt so surreal, as though she still had all the time in the world when she knew quite well that Hector's arrival was imminent. As servants dressed and redressed Andromache in the finest cloth, she found herself feeling unusually weary.

"Personally, I think you should go for the saffron robes." Said Pheleia, as she examined the fabric with a critical eye. Of all of the handmaidens, Pheleia had the best taste in these kind of things. "It really brings out the gold flecks in your eyes and makes you look absolutely stunning. However, we do not have enough cloth to do you justice. If you agree with the coloring Princess, I will consult your mother and we will trade with the Lycians." She sighed as she looked at Andromache. "What a pity all of your fine weavings were sold following the earthquake. To think that Thebe will need to trade for cloth when we have one of the finest weavers in all of Asia! Perhaps we shall trade you some better jewelry as well."

Andromache shook her head. "We can't afford that right now Pheleia. Saffron is expensive. I won't snatch away Thebe's precious resources right when we need it the most. That's why I'm marrying Hector after all. I shall do with the cloth and jewelry we have."

Pheleia smiled. "If you don't mind me saying, Princess, I'll marry him if you won't."

Andromache couldn't help but laugh. "That's what Euneus said." She said.

"You're marrying Prince Hector, because he is the finest man in Tros." Pheleia replied patiently, as though explaining something very basic to a small child. "They say Trojans are the best looking too. Who else would you marry? That coward from Chryse?"

"Chryse is close by at least." Andromache said, looking down. But quickly, she changed her tone. "Oh don't mind me, Pheleia. We all knew this day would come, I'm just...afraid."

"Of course you are. But if Prince Hector is half the man people say he is, and Troy half as great, you'll make yourself a new home before long. You're easy to love, Andromache. Be as good and sensible as you are now, and you'll have no trouble. The gods will bless your marriage." Pheleia said reassuringly.

Andromache was quiet for a moment. "Do you really think Prince Hector will be kind? I keep hearing how fierce and terrible he is in battle. I suppose I shall try to stay out of his way. I pray Aphrodite will be good to me."

"King Eetion has honored all the proper rites the gods and goddesses are due. They have provided, even with the earthquake. They will not deny his daughter happiness."

"Troy has been generous and the gods have been kind to grant us this opportunity." Andromache agreed solemnly. "I will try to make Hector a good wife, Troy a dutiful queen."

"The Trojans will be lucky to have you, Princess, as lucky as we in Thebe are now. You will do us proud."

As Andromache murmured a quick prayer to the gods, she could not help but wonder if that would be enough.

* * *

"Andromache," Her mother said one evening when they were alone. "How do you feel?" She asked.

"Fine." Andromache replied quietly.

The queen was silent for a moment. "The prophesies have all indicated this to be a good match." She said at last. "Of all the cities in the world, Troy is the one most blessed. Your name will be envied by women all over Asia."

Andromache nodded her assent, though she did not feel enviable. Quite the opposite, she envied the women who would would not have to leave their homes, who were free to marry ordinary princes who were not in line for the Trojan throne, women would not be placed upon pedestals, who did not have to behave like paragons of virtue.

But her mother's next words confirmed her fears.

"But all that comes as a price, my dear." She said seriously. "As the wife of the first prince, you will be expected to act as such, to show you will make a worthy queen." Queen Anaxandra continued. "You will be scrutinized and appraised, and your behavior must never be called into question. You have always shown good judgment, Andromache, and you must continue to do so."

Her mother had said nothing she had not expected, and she knew her mother meant well, but hearing the words spoken aloud sent a shiver down her spine. So this was how her life would be from now on. She would have to trade her family for a stranger's, the natural beauty of Thebe for the gilded varnish of Troy, and comfort and laughter for stiff, cold, politeness. "Yes mother." She answered obediently. "I will do just that."

"I know." Said the queen, putting a comforting hand on her daughter's shoulder. "I know you will have no trouble."


	2. Chapter 2

Andromache stood and waited respectfully as her father and Prince Hector made the proper greetings, exchanging gifts, as was pleasing to the gods. Her dark eyes were lowered with just the right amount of modesty, discreetly peeking up through her lashes every now and then to sneak a glance at her betrothed. The rumors had certainly been correct. Prince Hector was very handsome, but more than that, search as she might, his features seemed to be without defect. His eyes were a striking blue, his nose perfectly straight, his mouth neither too big nor too small. Despite a few battle scars, his face seemed to befit a bronze sculpture in its regularity, and perhaps for this reason, one glimpse was not enough.

Nor did Princess Andromache have any better success in finding fault in his manner. The way he stood was straight, but not stiff. His speech betrayed neither arrogance nor timidity. He said no more than he needed to say. His grave demeanor seemed better-suited for someone older, but somehow, the curve of his mouth revealed that he was not entirely without humor. And he seemed by all appearances very…polite. She could not read him.

At King Eetion's voice, Andromache looked up, knowing her turn had come at last. She raised her head and bowed her head to Prince Hector and the Trojan delegation, speaking the words she had memorized for the occasion. She would give him no excuse to find fault with her.

"My family and I welcome you all to Thebe. We hope you find your stay comfortable and enjoyable in every way." She nodded to the delegation, and turned to her betrothed. "Prince Hector, I hope you find me agreeable to your taste. To be chosen as a future queen of Great Ilion is an honor for my family and me. It is my greatest wish to live up to the expectations of your people, your family, yourself, and the gods. I promise to uphold the highest morals of loyalty, modesty, and discretion, and to be a pleasing wife." Thinking of Thebe and her own family, Andromache was resolved to keep that promise.

"And I promise to do my best as husband," Prince Hector answered, "to honor and protect you to the best of my ability, and to make Troy a welcoming home for you, as befit a daughter of gallant Eetion."

Andromache almost looked up when she heard his promise. He was not obligated, and she did not expect him to keep it, but she felt her respect for him rise. Troy would never be home, but perhaps they had been right. She could do worse.

"You are too kind," She murmured.

...

That night, Andromache sat with her betrothed at dinner. He made all the appropriate compliments regarding her weaving, her modesty, her beauty, to which she answered with all the appropriate replies and return compliments concerning his swordsmanship and valor and generosity. They attempted several innocent topics without success. Then silence.

It was Prince Hector's turn to attempt conversation. "The weather is quite lovely," was the careful remark.

"Yes, the temperatures are generally mild in these parts." Andromache replied.

He nodded his assent, and both parties ate in silence for a few minutes.

"And in Troy?" Andromache inquired politely.

Prince Hector paused a moment. "The coastal climate is temperate throughout the year, though Ilium is famous for its wind."

Andromache did her best to look interested as silence descended again. She had a feeling he was doing the same, though his face was as unreadable as her own.

"You had a comfortable journey I hope?" She asked, feeling called upon to say something.

"Yes, very. We were fortunate the gods sent us such favorable winds."

Andromache bowed her head in agreement and both were quiet again.

It was a while before Prince Hector restarted the conversation. "Thebe is very beautiful." He said, breaking the silence at last.

"I will miss it." Andromache replied, carefully keeping her tone even. "I thank you for the generous bride-price. It will help us recover from Poseidon's earthquake."

He observed her face for a moment. Andromache knew without conceit that her face was bewitching, but he was not looking to admire. Prince Hector was quiet for the moment, as though he just realized something. "I can see why you love this place. You would do anything for Thebe, wouldn't you?"

"Yes." She replied simply.

There was something new in the look he gave her. "As I would for Troy."

This was the longest exchange they held all evening, and Andromache found herself blushing, and pretended to be fascinated by her food. He had kept his voice casual, but it was clear that he was analyzing her. Was he commending her or questioning if she would be able to adjust to Troy? Should she not have said those words?

Andromache quickly perused her mind for something to say, an observation of the food perhaps, or a question about Troy's walls. "Are your lodging comfortable?" She settled with saying.

"Yes, very." Prince Hector said gravely. "The palace is charming. I hope to return together one day."

Andromache smiled graciously. It was the first true smile she had given in a while and it lighted up her pretty face. Young men around her turned their heads to gape but if Prince Hector noticed, he did not show it. "I would like that very much." She replied. But remembering herself, she said, "Though I know Troy will feel like home before long." That was not true. She did not know. But she would try.

A little later, they had returned to mundane topics and long silences but she had a respect for him now, and she felt like he had the same for her. They said their goodbyes and went their separate ways after dinner, and Andromache was finally able to breathe easily in the comfort of her room.

...

Her cousin Astynome was waiting for her there. "You're going to have a very polite marriage you know." Her cousin told her.

Andromache started. She had not expected to see her there.

"Well so what if I do?" Andromache replied defensively. "It could be a lot worse."

"It could also be a lot better." Astynome said wisely. "You could talk."

"What do you think I've been trying to do?" Andromache replied, outraged. "But how long can you expect us to carry a conversation about the weather?"

"Well maybe you should have tried another topic." When her cousin did not answer, she continued, "This is ridiculous Andromache. Neither of you are so stupid as to have nothing to say to each other. Your parents put a lot of effort into match, and we would all appreciate it if you could meet them halfway."

"I _am_ trying!" Andromache replied, stung. She loved Astynome, who was like the sister she never had, but what was one to talk about with a stranger who would soon become her husband? "There's nothing I want more than to leave my family thinking I'm happily married, but how am I supposed to do that when I haven't the first clue what to talk about?"

"You've just met him. There's a never-ending list of things to talk about. His family, his city, his likes and dislikes. It's when you've exhausted these topics when you're in danger of having nothing to talk about!"

"But I don't know him at all, if he prefers a quiet wife, or an engaging one. I don't know what to discuss, for fear he'll think me too forward. I can't forget that he's taking me from my home, and I cannot forget that I am indebted to him, because I _know _I am not worth that bride-price. I don't want to disappoint, but how can I know what he wants from me? Better that I say too little than too much and displease him." Said Andromache, for once unable to restrain herself.

Astynome didn't speak for a moment. "Are you scared?" She asked gently.

Andromache stared at her cousin for a moment. Slowly, she nodded.

Prince Hector's words about returning to Thebe someday was reassuring, but when would that be? That is, if he meant it. When would she see her cousin again? Or any of her family again?


	3. Chapter 3

That night, Andromache snuck out for a walk around the city. It was scandalous, she knew, and she could only imagine the consequences if she were caught, but she could not resist. Under the quiet glow of the moon goddess, and the soft fragrances of the flowers, was a quiet haven safe from the world around her. It had been all right. Her mother and father, her brothers, her cousins, they all loved him for which she was glad. This would make their loss of her easier to withstand. It would be all right.

She would be the envy of every woman in Asia and every woman in Europe, betrothed to the greatest hero in the East, Hector of Troy, loved by Zeus, loved by Ares, crown prince of the richest and most gloried city in the world. It was an honor. To herself, to her family.

He was everything they said he would be and more. Still, she was afraid.

In the shadows of a draping willow, Andromache stared at the moon and prayed for Artemis to give her strength. As she stood there, basking in the gentle beauty of the night, the sound of men's voices made her turn around. One of them was Prince Hector, and the other was another one of the Trojan princes that had come with the embassy. Andromache did not struggle long to remember his name. Prince Aeneas of Dardania, magnificent as a god. It was rumored that his mother was Aphrodite, and glancing quickly at him, Andromache did not doubt it. There was something so perfect about his features and a radiance in his face that she felt as though she could be burned to ashes if she stared at him too long.

There were other rumors too, prophesies that his descendants would one day rule what remained of Troy, that Troy would fall, but no one believed those things. Troy with its unrivaled wealth and impregnable walls could never fall. And she had heard too much about Prince Hector and his stallion-breaking Trojans from her brothers to doubt their ability to protect their country.

Her attention returning to her betrothed, the Theban princess saw that they were walking her direction. Quickly, Andromache hid in the tree's shadow and waited for them to pass. But she was not the only one to admire the beauty of that spot.

"Wait, let's stop here for a moment." She heard Prince Aeneas say. Andromache's heart began to thump and she tried to make her breathing sounds as soft as possible.

Neither man spoke for a moment, taking in the breathtaking sight just as Andromache had been doing.

Prince Aeneas was the first to break the silence. "Well?" He asked. "How did you like her?"

"Well." His friend answered.

"I was watching you. You said perhaps a total of three words together."

"Two of them were meaningful."

"Oh?" Prince Aeneas replied. "And what was their meaning?"

"That she is a woman of good sense and breeding, one whom I can respect as a wife and a future queen of Troy."

"She is gallant Eetion's daughter, known to excel all her age in beauty, works of hand, and clear judgment. What did you expect?" Prince Aeneas sounded amused.

"She is more than I expected. She loves her city as much as I love mine. In that, we are similar."

"In a lot of ways, you are similar." He paused. "Are you afraid she will resent you for taking her from her city?"

"A little."

"And that this marriage will mean the end of life as you knew it?"

"I would have liked to live as I have always done, but since it is the wish of my father and the Elders that I take a consort, I have no objections." Prince Hector's tone was guarded.

"What would you want in a wife, given the choice?"

"I ask only that she is a woman of honor who will remember her family and her own good name."

"An answer worthy of the Crown Prince of Troy, but that is not who I ask, I ask Hector, my friend."

"They are one and the same."

"Do you really ask nothing more than a woman who will bear your heirs, keep your good name, and stay out of your way?"

"Anything more is in the hands of the gods."

Without meaning to, Andromache shifted her leg; a twig snapped, and a moment a later, she was staring into the eyes of her betrothed, her wrists caught in his left hand, and a knife held to her throat in his right.

She had not realized how quick and strong Hector of Troy was. Staring death in the face, she let a little sigh escape from her breath. So this was how she was meant to die, at the hands of Man-Killing Hector, with a broken promise and discarded honor. Only hours ago, she had vowed to act with modesty and discretion, and now, here she was, alone in the gardens in the middle of the night, listening in on conversations she had no right to hear. She would bring no joy to her parents and no relief for Thebe.

Andromache closed her eyes. The knife didn't fall. What was taking so long? She opened her eyes again to see the horrified face of her betrothed. He lowered the knife.

"Princess Andromache?" He asked in shock, releasing her wrists.

She would have liked to run, but not for nothing had she grown up with seven brothers. She would have liked to answer with dignity and calm, to have explained her situation with poise and assurance, but here she was in this compromising position in which she had no defense to offer.

She met his eyes, almost defiantly, but didn't speak. Was he angry? Would he hurt her? Or worse? Would this be the end of her reputation? She would take what was coming without complaint.

"I apologize," Prince Hector said quickly. "I did not realize."

His words rendered her defenses useless. Andromache could not help it. She fled.


	4. Chapter 4

The next morning, Andromache waited in dread for the inevitable to happen. What could she do to prevent it? Beg and plead and promise again what she hadn't been able to keep? But he was a warrior; it wasn't in his nature to show mercy. His requests had been simple, and now he would think her unable even to keep his good name.

Oh, she had only been taking a walk, no real crime in itself. But it had been outside and unescorted and in the middle of the night! She could only imagine what he was speculating. That she had a lover no doubt, with whom she had been unchaste scarcely a week before her wedding day. He would have told all of his shipmates who were no doubt spreading those hideous rumors this very moment, adorning and embellishing them until all would know her as nothing but the most common of whores. No one would believe her of course, why should they? They would have no reason to question Hector of Troy and it was always the woman to blame. It took a lifetime to build a reputation and only a single night to destroy it.

She went down to breakfast with a heavy heart. Making excuses and hiding in her room was not an option. She had been a coward last night. He would not leave thinking her a coward.

Briefly, she had considered warning her father and mother of what was to come, but Pheleia, or perhaps a goddess disguised as Pheleia, had checked her.

"If Prince Hector has something to say, let him say it himself, my lady." She had said, and Andromache had conceded.

When she saw him, she only flinched and avoided his eyes but otherwise gave no indication of a change in manner. Prince Hector, for his part, revealed nothing, courteous and grave as he had been at their first meeting.

"I trust there were no problems last night." King Eetion said warmly, as he set the best portions of the meal in front of his Trojan guests.

Andromache tensed, but if her betrothed noticed, he did not show it.

"None at all." Prince Hector replied without sparing her a glance. "Your hospitality is legendary in these parts. I am honored by your generosity."

Her father laughed. "Well spoken, Hector of Troy. Zeus, lord of xenia, holds the sacred bond between guest and host above all other laws. It must never be violated. Remember that, friend. Honor the gods and they will bring honor to you."

Prince Hector gave his assent and they continued to eat - bread dipped in wine, figs, and olives - but Andromache had no appetite.

She had expected him to call her out in front of everyone, to embarrass her out of the open, but now, this waiting seemed worse. Why must he drag it out and torture her this way? How long until he revealed her misconduct and bring about her ruin?

Dimly, she heard the voices sound around her. King Eetion spoke in praise of her, Prince Hector politely agreed and she flushed with discomfort. Unwisely, she glanced up to observe the expressions of the rest of the Trojan delegation - he must have told them after all - but their faces gave no indication of a change in plans, no signs of contempt for the silly princess, or even impatience that they had sailed so far only to waste their time. Her eyes must have lingered a second too long because Prince Aeneas caught her gaze and responded with an amused smirk. Andromache quickly lowered her eyes, embarrassed and suddenly angry. But why shouldn't he be amused? Hadn't he seen her make a fool of herself last night? And he would be fortunate enough to see her be made a fool of again soon.

But by the end of the meal, still nothing, not even request a private audience with her father. The Trojans returned one by one to their quarters and as she saw Prince Hector leave on his own, a moment of recklessness seized her. She excused herself without drawing attention and followed him out. After all, what further damage could she do to her reputation? She had nothing to lose.

She walked quickly to catch up with him and took a deep breath. "Prince Hector," she said as steadily as she could. "Forgive me for being so forward, but may I ask you something?"

He turned around, surprised. "Princess Andromache. I apologize for frightening you last night. You are alright?"

She had not prepared for this reaction. Lowering her eyes, she said softly, "You have nothing to apologize for. My behavior last night was most inappropriate. As is my speaking to you now."

Hector paused. "Did you hear everything we said?" He asked at last.

"I - I did not mean to." When he did not reply, she steeled herself and raised her head. "I knew it was untoward of me, but I wished to take a walk outside to clear my head, and I'm afraid my feelings got in the way of my better judgment. That was all, I swear it by the gods. And when I heard you approaching, I knew you would think ill of me so I hid. But then you stopped and began speaking to Prince Aeneas, and I could not escape without your hearing. I should have revealed myself then, but I couldn't, and - " She stopped and realized she was rambling. How unfortunate that she, clear-thinking, circumspect Andromache could be so stupid at the most inopportune times?

"I apologize," she continued after a moment. "It was wrong of me. And I should not have run away. It was cowardly and most ill-judged. When will you speak to my father?" She finally asked.

"To break off the engagement?" He asked evenly. As a warrior, courage was one of his key values and there was something to be admired about the way she looked him in the eye, unflinching as she awaited her sentence.

She did not reply.

"Only Aeneas and I know about last night. No one will accuse you of anything base. Your reputation need not be ruined." He said quietly.

"What do you mean?"

"I have sisters, Princess Andromache, who are not always wise. I have no reason to disbelieve you. I don't see the need to end the betrothal."

Andromache was confused. "But what one may condone in a sister is not so acceptable in a wife for whom you payed so great a bride-price."

"You were imprudent perhaps, but I do not think you are generally so. I love Troy beyond all else, and I would like my city to have a queen worthy of her. You are known throughout Troad for your clear judgment and modesty and I would not like to discredit all of that because of last night."

"But reputations are often ruined by one night." She persisted.

"Yours needn't be."

She examined him for a moment to see if he was in earnest. He gave her no reason to believe otherwise.

"Thank you. I do not deserve it. I know I broke my promise to act with the highest level of discretion and to make you a good and dutiful wife, but it will not happen again." She lowered her eyes modestly. "I'm afraid I should not be speaking to you. I will make my leave."

She bowed her head and they exchanged goodbyes.

* * *

How was this chapter? Any thoughts?

*Remember guys, women weren't supposed to leave the house in this society. And if she's suspected of being unchaste, it would be the end of her squeaky clean reputation, and how much would she be worth then? Hector has a lot of choices but he's paying a lot for her, and you expect nothing but the very best from something so expensive, and she knows it, poor thing. Also, I'm not really trying to make either of them modern or anything (although I might not be able to help it) but I want them to exemplify all that's best of their society's values without appearing weak and boring.

=)


	5. Chapter 5

In a week, they were married, and before Andromache knew it, they were sailing for Troy. Standing at the ship deck, she gazed at her country's fading shoreline with quiet longing. The farewells had been the hardest part. The loving embraces of her father and mother, the bantering and fighting and playful jokes with her brothers, the warm companionship of her cousins and her brothers' wives, the bubbly laughter of her nieces and nephews – never again…

"I hate that man." Podes had said as Hector and the Trojans made the final preparations for the voyage, giving her time to make her last goodbyes.

Andromache did not know whether to laugh or cry. Mostly, she wanted to cry. But she had to be brave for her family's sake. "You liked him well enough this morning." She replied in what she hoped was a playful tone. "Not to mention last night when you were begging him to have one last sword fight with you."

"He's not that good." Her brother muttered, looking away into the ocean expanse.

"He beat you quickly enough. And I'll thank you not to insult my husband." She said, giving him a gentle swat on the arm with the back of her hand.

Euneus looked as though he were about to argue and she forced herself to smile. "You too, Euneus." All she had to do was keep her smile on a little longer. Just a little longer.

Her eldest brother, Dymas, pulled her into a tight embrace. "We'll miss you, Andromache."

She forced down a sob that rose in her throat and waited until she had full control of her voice. "I'll miss you too," she whispered. "All of you."

Her eyes stung and felt strangely moist at the edges. It was the damned wind, that was it. If only Aeolus hadn't been so generous. But instead, the gods had gifted them a perfect day to sail.

She heard a pitiful wail come from the direction of her youngest niece, Eunoe. Lifting the child up, Andromache said in a voice that sounded fake to her own ears, "Why are you crying for your aunty? She's going to a beautiful far off land with riches to spare and a handsome prince and a great white palace and she's going to be very, very happy. Aren't you excited for her?" Perhaps if she said it enough times, she could even believe it herself.

But Eunoe did not. "Aren't you happy here?" She cried.

Andromache swallowed hard. "Of course I am. But you'll understand one day. Now be good for your aunty and let her remember you with a smile, all right?"

Her niece managed a weak smile despite the shining wetness of her cheeks, and Andromache set her down with a kiss.

…..

Closing her eyes to the vast blue sea as the ship steadily sailed on, Andromache pushed down the memories and fought back her own tears. Turning to Pheleia, who stood beside her, Andromache asked in a raspy voice, "Tell me, how did it feel to leave you home?"

Her handmaiden paused for a moment. "I no longer had home to leave, my lady."

Suddenly realizing of what she had just inquired, Andromache regretted her words at once. "I'm sorry." She said. "I didn't mean to ask."

Filled with shame and compassion, Andromache became aware that her own suffering was nothing, that it could not even begin compare to that of her slave, who had once been royalty. Her city ravaged and her family killed or taken prisoner, Pheleia was given as a prize to Dymas, before becoming Andromache's personal handmaiden. After all, the difference between master and slave was the difference between the conqueror and the conquered. At least Andromache knew her home was well-protected. Her loved ones would come to no harm.

"It is nothing." Pheleia replied softly. There was no bitterness in her tone. She knew the ways of the world, and though the gods had not allowed her to be ransomed, they had given her to a gentle mistress whom she hoped they would continue to bless. "The pain dulls. You are lucky to have a strong husband to protect you."

_But who will protect me from him,_ Andromache found herself thinking. So far, in their brief contact, she had received nothing but the utmost courtesy from him, but would he continue to do so once she was outside of her family's protection?

Hector had led her from her father's house with countless gifts to win her heart, including the glittering headdress that could only have been fashioned by one of the gods. Aeneas had mentioned it that night. Aphrodite must have bestowed it upon her as a reminder to be worthy of it. It was an honor and a burden.

Troy had been generous. He had been generous. And she knew nothing but the best would be expected of her who had cost them so great a price. What if she could not meet those standards? She belonged to Hector now; she was his to do as he pleased. And she could not forget how strong he had been…

Reading her thoughts, Pheleia spoke. "My lady, he is a fair man. Your parents would not have given you to anyone less. You will grow fond of each other."

"I am to be his wife, not his mistress." Andromache replied. "There is no need for him to grow fond of me, only that he does not find too much to fault."

A sudden voice joined the conversation. "Mistresses take wooing and wooing takes time. As crown prince and the commander of Troy's army, I'm afraid Hector has little of that."

She whipped around and found herself staring at Prince Aeneas, an infuriating smile upon his lips.

He continued. "You are not in the least romantic, are you, Andromache?"

"You should have made your presence known, my lord." She said stiffly.

He raised his eyebrows and Andromache flushed in embarrassment at the memory he conjured up. "That is good advice, princess. I will keep it in mind."

Her voice cold and courteous, she asked, "Did you wish to speak to me of something?"

"Oh of nothing in particular." His reply was as casual as her's was polite. "But answer my question first. Are you not at all romantic?" He seemed genuinely curious.

"I hardly think this is an appropriate topic." She said at first, but his gaze was so frank and direct that she answered anyway. "You are the son of Aphrodite, not me."

"Since when did you have to be a child of Cytherea to believe in love?"

"Since when did love have anything to do with marriage?"

"I have heard that it does no harm."

"I have never heard it."

Aeneas scrutinized her for a moment. "You and Hector are exactly the same. I worry for you both."

Then, he gave her a scrutinizing look. "You took it well," he said changing the subject. "Leaving Thebe I mean."

"I think it would displease my husband if he thought me unable to adjust to Troy." Andromache replied, lowering her eyes.

"You are a brave woman. But I do believe you are afraid of him." Aeneas said, raising his eyebrows.

"I trust my parents' judgment." She said coolly.

"Then trust mine. You will come to no harm."

"How do you know?" Andromache blurted without thinking. She blushed at the childish question.

"I thought you trusted your parents' judgment?" He retorted grinning.

She found herself liking him less and less.

When she didn't answer, he continued. "Did Hector strike you as a difficult husband?"

Andromache raised her eyes to meet his. "No, but even if he were, I would never do anything that might bring dishonor to my family."

"Oh I don't doubt that. You are like him, I do not think you capable of dishonor. I'm afraid you'll have a very boring marriage." He looked her over lightly, wondering if anything could make her lose her calm. "Do your brothers hate you so much that you'd think they wouldn't come to your protection if you asked it?"

"Of course they would!" She said, eyes flashing. "But I would not ask it, and I would not need to ask it!"

"Peace, my friend." Aeneas replied, laughing slightly. He had succeeded. "I mean you all the goodwill in the world."

It was not until he made his leave that she began to wonder if she had been speaking to Aeneas or perhaps a god or goddess disguised in his form.


	6. Chapter 6

"Look," a voice spoke quietly. Andromache turned to see her husband beside her, pointing at a distant shore straight ahead. "There's Troy."

She was surprised to hear him speak to her. Throughout the past week aboard the ship, they had scarcely exchanged words, and only when courtesy dictated it. He rarely addressed her and was so reserved that she always felt as though she were disturbing him when she spoke. Despite what she had told Aeneas, she was intimidated.

But now, feeling called upon to reply, Andromache nodded. "They say there is no finer city in the world. I am lucky to call it my new home." She murmured back.

Hector's eyes met her own and she looked away immediately. There was something about them that saw a little too much.

But whatever he was thinking, he did not say it. "What else have you heard?" He asked instead.

"That it is second to none in power and wealth because it controls the trade route between the Aegean and the Black Sea." She paused. So many things she had been told of Troy she wished to ask him. "They say too, that the walls were built by the gods themselves, and cannot be breached. Is that really true?"

Hector answered in the affirmative. "Are you familiar with the story behind it?" He asked after a moment.

Andromache shook her head.

"Then you should hear it." He said, turning his face toward the city's golden outlines as Phoebus Apollo with his flaming chariots raced across the heavens and brought light to the skies. Behind it lay Mount Ida, shrouded in pink, orange, purple mist. It was a pretty view, even Andromache had to admit, though she yearned for home. But she listened with interest as Hector began to speak.

"Apollo and Poseidon were forced to work for a mortal for one year, so disguised as laborers, they built Troy's famous walls. But after they were finished, King Laomedon reneged on their promised wages. The walls could not be destroyed of course, so Apollo sent a plague within the city while Poseidon sent a seamonster to ravage the countryside. To appease the gods, Laomedon was forced to sacrifice his daughter Hesione to the sea-monster so he chained her to a rock by the sea."

He glanced back to see her shocked expression before adding, "A bit like Andromeda I suppose. Well, Heracles rescued her in exchange for Troy's immortal horses, but again, Laomedon refused to pay up, and Heracles responded by razing Troy. Laomedon was killed, and all of his sons, except my father whom Hesione ransomed with her veil. That is why my father is called Priam, _ransom_. Heracles gave Hesione to Telamon of Salamis but my father is still adamant that she return to Troy someday. They tell us that she has given Telamon a son and would like to stay in Salamis but Priam will not believe it. She is his only sister left and I think sometimes he would do anything to bring her back."

Andromache lowered her eyes and wondered if the day would ever come when she would not wish to return to Thebe. Could Hector be anything like the deceitful Laomedon, she thought, but hid her fears behind her carefully trained facade. "It is the gods' will." She said softly. Squinting her eyes against the brightness of the oncoming sunlight, she could see what she guessed were the prized walls that had been paid with the life's blood of so many Trojans and the heart's blood of Hesione and Priam and all those who had borne the losses. But at least, with those walls, the city and the people within it would be safe.

They stood there for a while before she spoke again. "What are your brothers and sisters like?" She asked, looking back at him. "You have met mine."

"Have you heard the rumors?" He asked, glancing at her questioningly.

"A few." She admitted. "They say Priam has fifty sons."

"The number is probably closer to thirty-something, though no one knows for certain." Hector answered. "I think my father says fifty because he likes the sound of it. Seventeen are by my mother, and I have another twelve sisters. You will have heard of Cassandra of course." He said and his face darkened.

Andromache did not reply. Who hadn't heard of Cassandra, the cursed prophetess who had dared deny Apollo. As far as Thebe, they had known of her mad ramblings about doom and fire but who could believe such talk? Lesser cities might fall perhaps, but not Troy. Never Troy.

Again, both fell quiet, listening to the sound of the gently rolling waves. "Ilione is close to your age." Hector said, breaking the silence at last. "Creusa too." He smiled to himself, as though amused. "Aeneas is sweet on her, and her own feelings toward him do not much differ, though you would not be able to tell from the way they speak to one another. But don't tell him I said that." His smile was as natural and bright as the sun's glittering rays. Andromache had never seen it before.

She stared in amazement at the transformation it made on the cold, proud prince, but before she could reply, Pheleia stepped over from where she had stood to the side and interrupted. "Forgive me, but my lady must get properly dressed as we are nearing Troy." Later, there would be time to talk.

Hector nodded his permission and Andromache returned to her cabin with Pheleia to prepare herself.

* * *

Like Dawn stepping out into the early morning in her saffron-colored robes, Andromache emerged back on deck, gown trailing, jewels flashing, and her head held high. Hector allowed himself to admire her glistening beauty for a brief moment, before signaling for her to join him. Together, they got into the chariot that led them back to Troy. She would make him a fine wife, that was for certain. Calm, collected, and self-contained, she could not have made Troy a better queen.

And yet, did she not meet his demands of a wife a little _too _well? He wondered if anything could break her unyielding reserve, if the wariness with which she gazed at him would ever fade, or if she could ever regard the city which she would one day rule as home. Even if the world around her were falling apart, he could not but imagine her just as she was now, stately, unruffled, with not a word of complaint. He had spent time with her brothers, whose stories revealed that she was not always so serious and imperturbable. It made him feel as though he were robbing her of her youth and he felt the sorrows she would not show.

"The horses are so beautiful and swift." Andromache commented, turning to look at him. "They cannot be merely mortal."

Hector's eyes held a glint of pride as he answered. "These were sired by Boreas, god of the North Wind. Do you know of our famous horses?"

"Only a little," was the modest reply.

And he told her the story, of King Erichthonius and his magnificent mares, of Ganymede and his abduction by Zeus, who, as compensation, had gifted them with a pair of immortal horses from Olympus.

"Would you like to see them?" He asked when he finished.

"I would love to." Her words sounded genuine, and that pleased him, as they fell back into a steady silence as they crossed the golden wheat fields and the vast Trojan plains.

"I did not know it would be so flat in Troy." He heard her say softly, almost to herself it seemed. She had not meant for him to hear it.

He tried to read her face, but could not. "It is not like woody Plakos where your father ruled." Hector answered after a moment. "But when you long for it, we journey to Mount Ida, which is not far away, and you will find the same trees as the ones from your childhood."

"You are very kind." She replied, her voice low. "The plains are lovely, and I would only wish to see Mount Ida if it would be of no trouble to you." She amended.

He assured her it would be of no trouble and continued wondering if for the rest of his life, they would be speaking in murmurs and trying to please.

* * *

Andromache looked at the palace with a gasp. After seeing the gleaming city, she thought nothing could possibly surprise her. They had passed through the breathtaking Scaean Gates, rode through the broad streets that Troy was so renowned for, passed the merchants selling coveted goods from Mycenae, Sidon, even Egypt, but to have so much wealth and still more to spare for such a palace! So many rumors she had heard, and yet, the real thing eclipsed them all! It was no wonder that of all the cities in the world, Zeus honored sacred Ilium the most.

She gazed around in wonder as she followed Hector out of the chariot and up to his father's halls, at the stories painted on the wide walls (Laomedon, Hesione, Ganymede, and others she did not know of), the delicately-crafted columns supporting the overhanging ceilings, and so much more. Outside the palaces magnificent doors, she saw Priam and Hecuba waiting to welcome them.

"Father, Mother," Hector said after making the proper greetings. "I present to you my bride, Princess Andromache."

Slowly, eyes downcast, Andromache made her way to King Priam's throne and knelt as she had been taught to do. The king gently pulled her up to her feet.

"So you are Eetion's lovely daughter and my son's choice for wife," He said smiling kindly. "Troy welcomes you."

She felt Hecuba's eyes looking her over and with relief, she saw her give a nod of approval.

"Thank you for welcoming me to your home." Said Andromache. "I am honored to be a part of Troy."

"Rest now, dear child." Priam said as they finished the greetings. "Hector," he continued, turning to embrace his son, the eldest and the most beloved. "We are glad you are home."

* * *

So here's the next chapter and I hope you enjoyed it. Thanks to everyone who reviewed in the last chapter!

VeronicaD13: Nope, Hector doesn't know about the conversation with Aeneas. And I'm not really sure if they consummated. I think back then, they would sometimes wait till the girl got older, but Andromache's not exactly young for marriage by their standards, so you could have it whichever way you choose.

HeadbangGirl: Glad you like Aeneas' character! I like him too. Well, his mother is Aphrodite and Hector is his friend so he wants everything to work out a little faster than it's doing at the moment. But hey, they actually managed to talk in this chapter, which is an improvement. She might be lonely for a little while in Troy, but after that, she'll be fine.

NolaSwan: I'm glad you like their relationship! Yes, I have been trying to make the chapters longer, I just need time, haha. XD


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